The day he noticed
by Micetta
Summary: Austin Moon is Ally Dawson's crush. He doesn't know her, he never even noticed her. One day, though, it happens: not only he finally knowledges her existence, but he also asks her to be his music partner to win the school's music contest. Long-shot.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi :)**

**This is the prologue of my new long-shot. I've started this a long time ago and now I feel like continuing it, so yeah. I'm sorry for those who read my other story Back off, sis and haven't get an update in forever. I'll update, I promise, there's something I still want to plan out better in that story and school didn't give me the time to think. I'm also graduating this year, I'm very busy ugh**

**Anyway, this is just the prologue as I said and it's shorter than the following chapters. I hope you like it!**

**I don't own Austin&Ally, sadly.**

* * *

He was addicting.

Addicting like a chocolate cake you would eat kilograms of, even when your stomach starts hurting. Ah, if she could only take a_ bite_ of that cake! That's all she asked for from life. This whole story sounded so pathetic from a foreign point of view, but hey, the heart wants what the heart wants. How can you stop feelings?

Like every day Ally was standing beside the school's glass doors, waiting for a certain blond-haired boy to make his big entrance, so she could steal a quick glance of him, which he wouldn't notice.

He _never_ noticed.

A light shiver ran down her spine as she leaned on the cold material of the wall, even though maybe it was just the anxiety to see him. He would've come in two minutes, therefore she rapidly proceed to fix a bit her hair and skirt, hoping it would be the _day_. The day he would take notice of her, kiss her, marry her and live happily ever after with her. But it was reality, not a Disney movie. A girl can dream, though.

As she expected, a shadow darkened the sunlight that pierced the glass; just in time. A tall figure crossed the doors: he looked like always. Messy bleach blond hair, fashion sunglasses, a colored shirt and a tank top underneath. And, of course, a girl linking her arm with his. Another pretty girl Ally didn't even know; he changed girls like socks, without feeling ashamed of it. To the contrary, it was a source of pride for him. This 'little' flaw was the only thing that ruined the image of the perfect prince charming… but people change, don't they?

As they walked more into the hallway, they caught everyone's attention: girls sent the cutie next to him death glares and guys frowned, wishing they were at his place. Ally was part of the first category. The figure of the girl became blur as she tried to focus on the blond, starting to daydream about him against her will.

"Earth calls Ally," a voice rang into the brunette ears, louder than the school bell.

Ally snapped out of her state of trance and gave a confused look to the person who had talked. "Hi, Trish," she greeted her Latino best friend, smiling innocently. She knew that a scold was about to come.

Trish shook her head. "If you keep staring at Austin Moon like that someday he will notice and-"

"He will never notice," I cut her off and sighed, looking once more at his direction.

"Maybe it's for the best. Ally," the curled-haired girl put a hand on her friend's shoulder, "I know you like him but I personally don't think he's the right guy for you. Look at him. I'm not saying he's out of your league… 'cause you're gorgeous, really. But he doesn't look for a serious relationship, like you do. Have you seen how many girls has he dated? And he's basically every girl's forbidden dream... I have heard plenty of girls saying that they want to spend a night with him."

"That's the point, Trish. I don't want to spend a _night_ with him, I just want to spend a _day_ with him. That's all I ask for," Ally said shyly, mumbling the last part.

Trish couldn't help but smile at her adorable confession; she could see how true her friend's feelings were and it hurt even more knowing it wouldn't be easy for her to get over him. "I see. But still, you haven't given your opinion about what I just said to you. Don't you care about his reputation? He's a bad guy."

Ally bit lower lip, determination in her eyes. "He is not! I swear, Trish. I saw him playing guitar and singing in the music room and the way he put all himself into the music was amazing."

Trish raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you like him because of music?"

"Pretty much, yes. I'm sure he is a sweetheart and a sensible guy, but he doesn't let anybody see this part of him."

Talking with her was pointless, there was no way to make her reason. "But you barely know him…"

"I can see through him. I know what I'm saying," Ally nodded with decision and stole another quick glance at Austin - now at the end of the hallway - kissing the girl he walked in with.

It was like burning a house already burned down to ashes. And Ally was that house.

* * *

Usually, when a girl has a crush on a guy, she always knows all his moves, the places he goes to, what he likes to do and other stuff.

When a girl has a crush on a guy, she becomes like a CIA agent.

But Ally could easily consider herself the CIA's _boss_.

It wasn't an "obsession", as Trish always labeled her feelings for the guy, it was more like… err… dedication. Dedication for the guy she was going to marry in the future. Sounds legit.

Anyways, as the good "CIA's boss" she was, apart from knowing when and where he used to play guitar during school hours, she was pretty much informed about his working out habits. Marino High School had an excellent gym, an excellent basketball team (which Austin was the captain of) and amazing gymnastic tools. And, apparently, Austin was a big fan of those. After school, and before his basketball practice, he used to go to the gym and work out. He didn't, however, on Wednesdays and Fridays. She didn't know why, though… well, except for this specific thing, she still was a good spy (the word 'stalker' didn't suit her, no).

The brunette walked carefully towards the gym, avoiding to be seen by any student, her book clutched in her hand, her backpack hanging off her shoulder and her guitar case on the other. She was really burdened that day, but she had to bring the guitar since her music teacher insisted on hearing her play.

Before she realized, she was standing there. Outside the washed out light blue door, slightly ajar. Ally, taking the risk, tried to get a sneak peek of the inside doing her best to balance everything on her shoulders. Then she saw him, lying on a bench for exercises, his arms raising up and then going down. He was so concentrated in doing that exercise that she decided to open the door just a little more, to watch better. She couldn't stop staring at his muscles contracting and at his flat abdomen (he was, surprise surprise, shirtless); she was totally mesmerized.

But suddenly, due to her goofiness or the dizziness caused by the pleasing view in front of her, her guitar case slid off her shoulder and on her arm and it hit the door, causing it to open even more.

Even her songbook fell on the ground in the process. She muttered a "dang!" before quickly bending to pick it up. Little did she know her whole act caught somebody's attention and when she raised her head, two hazel eyes were staring at her.

_And for the first time, he noticed._

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**_Reviews are appreciated (:_**


	2. Chapter 1: the partnership

**_A/N: hello!_**

**_I'm back with chapter two. I'm glad you liked the prologue and reviewed/favorited/followed the story. You didn't get any "Auslly action" though, so I'm pretty sure you'll like this chapter more. Hehe._**

**_Good reading :)_**

* * *

_Run_, she thought.

All she wanted to do was run away, but her feet were glued to the ground and her eyes fixed on his. He had never looked at her before and it was so weird for her to get his attention, so weird that she was not only dead embarrassed but scared, too.

He would've probably made fun of her for spying on him.

Everyone would know.

Everyone would make fun of her as well.

And she could change identity and move to Mexico.

Or she could pack herself into a box and ship herself to Antarctica.

"Hey," a voice woke her up from her thoughts, "do you need something?"

The look he was giving her was a bit unsure. He had stood up from the bench and thrown a towel on his shoulders, wiping the sweat off the skin there.

"I-" she gulped, her hands more sweated than his body was after hours of working out. Looking at him was worse than working out.

Damn.

"…I'm sorry for interrupting you, but I forgot something in the locker room and I need to get it," she said in a very high speed. Her voice was trembling but at least you couldn't hear her heartbeats going fast as dozen horses in a race.

She saw him smiling at her from distance, "Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything, I'm leaving anyway. Worked out way too much today, I'm dehydrating." He let out a laugh and put his white tank top on, reducing just a bit the awkwardness.

She debated whether she should've laughed at the joke or said something back, but being her mind a total blur, she decided to just smile back.

A beat passed.

"Err… maybe now I should umm-" she started off, pointing to the locker room's doors. He smiled again and nodded, sipping some water from a little bottle. She wondered if all of this smiling was just him judging her goofiness and weirdness.

So, pretending to get the mysterious object she left there, she walked to the red doors of the locker room, but not even half way, his voice erupted in the room again. "Is that a guitar? Do you play it?"

Ally turned to look at him, only to find the blonde standing in front of her, making her do a little jump in the air. How did he…?

He was so much more cute up close and his height was making her feel small, very small.

Then, she remember he asked her a question, something about her guitar, something about her playing it. _Yes, yes, tell him yes! _The voice in her head yelled.

"Yes, I do."

_And yes, I do want to marry you, too._ But that was not the question.

He reached for the guitar case, caressing the black plywood, his arm accidentally brushing on hers. She could've died right there, right in that moment. She noticed how his eyes were sparkling talking about the instrument in there, his love for music could only compare to her own. She could understand him better than anyone else, if he only let her into his life…

"Impressive," he whispered, withdrawing his hand, "I play guitar, too."

Oh, she knew.

"Really?" She said instead, playing dumb.

He beamed. "Yep, and piano, drums, bass, trumpet, ukulele and violin," he counted the instruments using his fingers, but she noticed how he got lost in the middle of counting; she had to fight back a giggle.

"I only play guitar and piano," she said, not knowing where all that confidence was coming from. Hey, he was friendly, talking to him was almost comfortable. _Almost_. He was her hot crush after all.

"And… may I ask what is this? Music sheets for the piano?" He asked, pointing at her book, too closely. She immediately brought it close to her chest on instinct, tightening the grip on it. _Nobody touched her book, her crush included._

"It's a songbook, it's where I write my original songs." Why was she giving him all those information she had no idea.

"Amazing," he complimented, his tone a little louder and more cheerful than before. He kept nodding his head like he was considering something, some idea forming into his mind. "What's your name?"

She wanted to pinch herself to check if it was reality. As lame as it may sound, she always had pictured in her head the moment he'd have asked her name. Okay, maybe he wasn't dressed up as a prince and he definitely wasn't riding a white horse like in her fantasies but… she didn't mind the way he actually asked her, though.

"A-Ally. Ally Dawson."

"Austin Moon," he shot her a smile. Suddenly, his phone beeped and he let out a sigh. "I'm really sorry, I'm late, I gotta go back home. See you around, Ally."

And with a wave, he left, leaving her speechless.

As she felt like on cloud nine, her guitar and backpack didn't feel that heavy anymore.

* * *

All she could think about was him. The fact that he acknowledged her existence was still processing in her mind. He had talked to her, he had even asked her name and if she played guitar. Trish wouldn't have believed it. "He's not going to talk to you, he only likes bad girls" (actually she didn't exactly say 'bad girls', but it's better not to repeat her actual words).

How wrong she was.

Drowning in her own ecstasy, Ally even forgot to tell her best friend the breaking news. The next day, though, as Trish reached Ally's locker to tell her about the opening of a new clothes shop at the Mall (that she planned on visiting very soon), she caught something weird in her friend's behavior. Ally was leaning against the locker next to hers, her songbook in her hands, love struck look on her face. Everything definitely screamed Austin, but this time, it seemed different.

Finally, the curly Latina girl approached her best friend, that didn't notice her presence until she spoke up.

"Ally?" Trish called carefully.

The girl looked up from her songbook, her cheeks were slightly red like she was a bit feverish. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Yes," she almost screamed in response, "I mean no, I mean I don't know! I'm freaking out!" Something clearly was up, her rambling giving it away. So then, without giving Trish the chance to say something back, Ally turned her head left, then right and, after noisily slamming her locker shut, she dragged her friend in the girls' restroom.

"He talked to me," she blurted out in a rush, jumping up and down on the spot, her hair flying everywhere.

Trish's eyebrow narrowed, "He? Who?"

"He… he," Ally whispered shyly, biting her lower lip. She almost feared to look at her bestfriend.

It took a few seconds for Trish to process the information until a thought formed into her mind and she translated it into spoken words, using a simple exclamation. "What?!"

"I was at the gym yesterday after school," she started, and before Trish could open her mouth to ask why, she put a hand before her, "don't ask. Anyway, he was there and he saw me and we kind of talked. He asked me if I could play guitar and what's my name. Oh, and I told him I can write songs; I don't know why, but I did. Can you believe that?"

Trish was surprised, happy even, to see her friend finally talking to the guy of her dreams but something about this wasn't good for her. She didn't like the guy, nor she trusted him. At all.

And being a good friend, she had to tell her, even if that meant ruining her current cheery mood. "I'm happy for you, Ally, really. But you know what's my opinion about him, be careful. If you ever talk to him again, try to get to know him better. Don't fall into his trap, I'd hate to see you heartbroken."

She meant it.

Ally was a bit disappointed that Trish didn't squeal at the news like the perfect best friend would, but only gave her a lecture about traps and broken hearts. He didn't have a good reputation, indeed, but she was a big girl and she could look for herself, no need for the others to worry.

"Don't worry, I won't fall into his trap," Ally repeated her friend's words, giggling. Trish nodded and showed the brunette a small smile.

And with that, Ally let out a squeal and threw her arms around the shorter girl.

* * *

A couple of hours of daydreaming later, it was already lunch.

Ally headed to her locker to put her books there so she could go eat something; not that she was really hungry anyway, her mind with busy thinking of _him,_ food was her last thought. But her stomach reminder her, with a grumble, that she actually _needed_ food.

A small group of cheerleaders was gathered up not so far from her locker and Ally eyed the dark skinned girl Austin was with, the day before. She was pretty. Very. Her self-esteem dropped rapidly, like it was throwing itself from the tallest skyscraper in the world.

The metaphor was really accurate.

In the middle of the contemplation of the competition, a voice rang in her ears, causing her to almost drop her books on the floor. "Hey, Ally! I was looking for you."

That wasn't happening. No, no, no.

There, though, behind her, the blonde that hunted her dreams stood grinning. Somewhat, Ally managed to squeak out a "Austin?" Then, she cleared her throat, pretending it was sore.

"Man, it was hard to find you. I had to ask the whole school to finally find you! I need a huge favor," he pleaded, his hands joined together in a plea sign.

The answer was yes.

Whatever thing it was.

"What is it, Austin?"

"Principal Thompson agreed on a music contest this year where we students can perform and compete against each other. Now, you see, I think that presenting a new song - and not covering a famous one – would be a bonus for me and my chance of winning would increase. So, since you told me you write songs, can you please, please, please write one to me? I'll help! And I'll give you credit. I promise!"

It was hard for Ally to stay focused on his words when he was looking at her like that and with his face this close, but she understood everything.

Especially the fact that he desperately needed her help.

She smirked inside.

"I don't know,"

"I'm asking you to start this music partnership for a while, until we finish the song. It's just_ one_ song."

If it was for her, she'd write a whole album for him. And about him, too.

She nodded and he did a small victory dance. "Thank you, you're the best!" He exclaimed and patted her on the head.

That was weird, but it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"And, trust me, you won't regret spending time with me," he winked suggestively, making her blush as if he had asked her to do 'things' in a very explicit way.

Goodness, what did she put herself into.

She caught the same girls she was looking at before staring at her, especially Austin's "girlfriend". Her face was furious, her arms crossed over her chest. Ally gulped. "So is it good for you if we meet up today?"

"What?"

"I said- Ally are you okay?" He asked in serious concern, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"I don't like the looks those girls are giving me."

Austin pfft'ed. "Don't worry, they're just a bunch of brainless bitches."

Ally looked at him, but slightly amused this time. "Wait, isn't one of those girls your… girlfriend?"

The annoyed expression didn't leave his features. "That's exactly why I know what I'm talking about."

Ally let out a laugh, despite him being this mean to his own girlfriend. But the fact the he was talking to her and didn't care about the girl in front of them made her happy to no end.

Ally 1, brainless girlfriend 0.

"So, where can we meet up?" He asked, eager to get the work started as soon as possible. His hazel eyes were glittering, like the first time he had talked to her about music. _Adorable_ was the most accurate word to describe him, beside "hot" and "breathtaking". Those fit him very well, too.

"Since we need a lot of instruments, we can meet up at my dad's store, the Sonic Boom. Ever heard of it?"

"The one at the Mall? I know where it is and, I also know a pretty girl works there. That's what I've heard," he shot her a charming smile.

A giggle escaped Ally's mouth, like she had no control on her own actions, but she had to suppress it immediately not to look stupid. "That'd be me."

"Well, they weren't wrong," he winked – for the second time in the past ten minutes - at her, making her blush furiously, "is it 6 okay for you?"

"It' perfect. See you later." A smile made its way on her lips and he gladly returned it.

At this point, though, before Austin could properly tell her goodbye, the flirting atmosphere got interrupted as a tall, massive shadow darkened the floor under Ally's feet. Austin's features hardened, his lips pressed together into a firm line.

"Austin Moon, my man," said a voice, in a mocking tone. Ally recognized the voice's owner immediately, and turned towards him, backing up a little to the locker.

"Trent," Austin said, his voice stern, pronouncing those letters like each one of them was pure venom.

Trent Harris. Black-skinned, dark-haired, bad boy; tall, muscular, one of the most popular guys in school. Their rivalry was history: it started right after Trent moved to Miami from New York, in eighth grade, and since they were now both seniors, you could say the feud had been going on for a while.

The white. The black. The blonde. The brunette. The captain of the basketball team. The professional rapper.

Everyone knew their differences, yet they had just one thing in common: their passion for music. And both of them had been fighting to get labeled as the best singer in the school.

"Have you heard about the music contest, Moon? Do you plan on signing up or are you going to chicken out and hide in the gym? You know, flexing won't help you find musical talent."

Austin laughed loudly, you couldn't hear a single fly buzzing in the hallway, everyone had shut up the second Trent approached Austin. "I don't mean to scare you, but I'm going to be a contestant this year; you better prepare yourself for your defeat. It won't be nice, Trent," he said not showing a bit of insecurity, his gaze not leaving his enemy's.

Trent put a hand before the blonde, gesturing him to stop. "It's _T-fame _now," he corrected him and shot a quick wink to Ally who looked away embarrassed.

Austin scoffed, not missing Trent's flirting attempt. "You know what, T-fame? You fame-" he started, then paused a couple of seconds to add suspense, "will never reach the _Moon_."

And with that last comeback Austin brushed past his shoulder, leaving Trent totally speechless.

Ally found his exit really histrionic and well-done, like the one of some smartass character in a movie, and she couldn't help but feel attracted to him even more.

* * *

**What do you think? Songwriting session in the next chapter! ;) **

**Stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 2: the songwriting

**A/N: hi everyone! I hope you had a nice Easter or a nice weekend for those who don't celebrate :)**

**Thank you for the kind words for the previous chapter and a big thank you to everyone who favorited/followed.**

**I hope you'll like this chapter, too.**

**Good reading :)**

* * *

When Ally Dawson was nervous, she'd take out her frustrations in three different ways.

One, _freaking out;_ and that wasn't a pleasant view.

Two, _chewing on her hair_; and that wasn't pretty to see, either.

Three, _cleaning up_. Everything, in a maniacal way.

In the span of two days, Ally had not only accomplished one of her most important life goals, namely talking and _flirting_ with Austin Moon, but they had also planned out to spend a day together. That was purely for work, sure, but things could lead to other things and before she knew, boom! Instant boyfriend.

Well, that was easier said than done and probably she should've stopped talking with Trish about reality shows, there was no "Boom! Instant boyfriend" in her life.

Out of the three ways of showing her nervousness, Ally chose the last one. That's why, after changing her clothes four times and washing her teeth twice – nobody likes bad breath –, the girl was standing behind the counter of the Sonic Boom, cleaning, polishing and spraying like her life depended on it.

The cymbals she had been cleaning up for half an hour were shimmering, more than normal cymbals would. You could've easily mistaken them for mirrors. For the umpteenth time, Ally surveyed them carefully, trying to spot a tiny invisible stain that had possibly remained.

"Oh, look at you," she said maliciously, scouring the little stain left. The cymbals were now successfully cleaned up.

Lost in her activities, though, Ally didn't even realized that outside rain was pouring down from the clouds and everything out of the store looked grey and creepy. She groaned._ He won't come, it's raining_ _hard, _she kept repeating in her head, _probably he'd have forgotten anyway…_

All of a sudden, her hopes raised up again exponentially when a tall figure approached the door. As she expected, it was him, soaking wet, holding a red gym bag.

He rushed inside, his free hand covering his hair from the water. "Ally, I'm sorry for the delay but I got stuck at practice because Coach-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ally spoke up, "Stop right there!"

He froze for a second, dropping his bag on the floor with a thump and holding his hands up in surrender. "What did I do?"

Ally couldn't believe she had actually shouted at him and, highly embarrassed, she started talking politely, "Your shoes are all wet and covered with mud and I don't want the floor to get stained... sorry, I'm a maniac of cleaning. Can you please take them off?"

She mentally facepalmed. _Way to go, Ally, he's going to think you're weird now._

He sighed and bent down, untying the laces of his black converses. "Girls," she heard him mutter. Good thing he was blaming the whole female gender and he wasn't only weirded out by her. He took off the shoes, revealing his pink socks, and dropped them right by the doors. He made eye contact with her almost immediately, "Do you want me to take off something else, now?" he questioned, eyebrow lifted up suggestively. She wished she could've erased that smirk off his face. And she would have, if she wasn't too busy blushing and making a fool of herself.

The answer that formed in her mind was _yes_.

But "n-no", she stuttered.

Besides, as if his little innuendos weren't enough to make her uncomfortable, the fact that his hair was stuck on his forehead and his shirt glued to his pectoral muscles wasn't helping. Quite a distracting view, for sure. "Do you need to go home to get changed? You can't stay with those wet clothes on, you'll catch a cold."

"No, mom, I'm fine," he said jokingly, rolling his eyes, "I've got some clothes in this bag. I knew bringing more spare clothes would've been useful a day."

She wondered if he had an oxygen tank there, too. That'd have been really useful for her.

"Let's go upstairs, I'll show you where you can change," she suggested, gripping her precious songbook, and headed upstairs, with him hot on her heels.

"This is the practice room," she announced, as she stepped inside, "this is where I practice with piano, guitar and where I write my songs," she turned around to look at him, only to find him with his shirt off, unbuttoning his jeans. She tore her gaze off his chest _almost_ immediately, but not enough to prevent her from being caught staring for a couple of seconds. "You can watch, if you want," she heard him saying from behind her.

Such a guy thing to say.

"No, I'm good," she said in a hurry, trying to keep her breath steady and sat down on the piano bench, pretending to flip through the pages of her book. He'd been there for like five minutes and he was already driving her insane. She didn't know if she could handle him any longer, but since they had to work on a song together, she tried to get him off her head and focus on the song and on the song only.

But man, was it hard.

For a second she even regretted accepting his offer.

That was, until she felt his presence behind her, his body hovering over hers radiating heat. Ally didn't even try turning around, in fear he was still in lack of clothing. Fortunately, as he took a seat next to her on the tiny piano bench she noticed he wasn't.

But he was so close, too close for her liking.

"You sing, too?" Austin asked, a hint of curiosity tinting his eyes.

Ally looked up at him, his hazel eyes fixed on hers. "I- yes. I do, but-"

"Sing something for me then," he asked casually as if it wasn't a big deal.

She looked down at her hands fidgeting on top of the book wide open on her lap. "Sorry Austin, but I don't sing in public. Because of this terrible stage fright I've got, I only sing in front of my dad, my mom or my best friend, don't take it too personal," she explained, sheepishly, fearing he'd make fun of her for being such a loser.

His expression was unreadable, a mix of disbelief and astonishment. "How is it possible? I mean, performing is one of the best things in the world. You know that kind of rush that burns up into your whole body when you sing? It's one hundred times better when there's someone who's watching you and they're feeling what you're feeling, they're having fun as much as you are. How can you not perform in front of anyone?"

Ally stared at him in awe. That was her Austin, the Austin she could read inside, the one that lived for music and brightened up as it was brought up in a conversation.

That was the side of him she'd been crushing on.

"I had this bad experience with this guy from a music school and I just- sorry, I don't wanna talk about it."

He smiled, "And you let someone destroy you for a little mistake? Music is what you like, right?" She nodded. "Then don't hide in some soundproof little world of yours, share your passion with the world."

She was the one smiling now, the motivation he had given her was unbelievable, never in her life someone had said those sweet things to her. "Thank you, that was an inspiring speech, but I don't think I can do it, it's still too soon."

"Then try with me," he said, standing up and then moved behind her, giving the girl a view of his back, "I'll stay right here and I won't watch if it makes you less uncomfortable."

She stared at him. The way some locks of his blond hair were curling on the back of his neck, the crinkles of his plaid shirt, the chain hanging off his jeans. She didn't know why but she immediately felt this need to sing to him, to communicate her emotions to him, to feel him linked to her somehow.

"You can watch, if you want," she said, using his words against him and placed her hands on the piano. Taken aback, he turned around, a huge grin spread on his face as he watched her playing.

Her voice was a new, unheard melody for him. Soft, angelic. He wished he could sneakily record her and listen to her anytime he wanted. And he would have, if he wasn't totally mesmerized.

Saying she was good was an understatement.

As the song came to an end, Austin started clapping in a retarded seal fashion. "You are so good, Ally! And was that song yours?"

"Thank you, Austin," she blushed, "and yes, that was mine."

He plopped down on the bench beside her, his leg brushing with hers in the process, "With another masterpiece like that, my victory is pretty much already established."

"Thank you, really, but we gotta work hard to write this song. Don't give anything for granted, as far as we know there may be great songwriters in our school."

Austin scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

Ally let out a chuckle. He seemed to always see the glass half full. "So, how much time we have?"

"Well, um, eight days."

"Eight days?" Ally stood up from the bench, looking down at him like he was crazy, "How can we write a perfect song for you that could make you win in eight days?"

"Ally," he gripped both her shoulders and pressed her down on the bench again, "calm down. We can do it." The way he was gazing into her eyes gave her reassurance, causing her to calm a little bit, but the electric shock caused by his hands on her was hard to shake off. She felt relieved when he dropped his arms and spoke again, "Principal Thompson agreed on the music contest thing on the condition it would take place as soon as possible, so we wouldn't get distracted from our school work before the graduation. It's either now or never, Ally. I'm a senior and this is my last chance to sing in front of the whole school _and_ beat Trent Whatshisname."

The determination in his eyes made Ally giggle. "Alright. Let's get started. But first, tell me what you like."

He stared at her confused. "What I like? Why?"

"I can't write a song for you if I don't know what you like, what type of music you're into… I don't think one of my girly songs would fit you."

He shook his head, "You're right. I don't think people would take me seriously if I sang about cute guys, make-up or princes charming."

She sighed at his low consideration of the female universe. "Well, for starters tell me what's your favorite kind of music."

He pondered for a second, finger on his chin. "I like pop songs and old rock songs. I like dancing and tapping my foot to the beat of the music. We could write something like this, an upbeat song!"

His enthusiasm was contagious, she couldn't wait to start with the songwriting now. "Great idea. So, what else do you like… like, in general? We could take inspiration from something in your life."

"What else? Well, the top 3 on my likes-list consists in pancakes, cheerleaders and LeBron James."

She raised an eyebrow at him, trying to suppress a laugh. "Well, that explains why you play basketball, why you're dating a cheerleader and…"

"And why I eat pancakes on daily basis," he said, dreamingly, staring off into space.

This guy was something else.

"This is… cool, Austin. But, for example, you can't write a song on pancakes."

"Of course you can!" He pointed out, accusingly. He put his fingers on the piano, playing some jingle she was pretty sure she heard somewhere… in a food commercial, probably.

"Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes, I eat them in the morning, I eat them at night. I just love pancakes!" He ended the song and winked at her.

"That was… something, Austin. But in my modest opinion, I think people would take you more seriously if you sang about cute boys."

Austin joined her as she started laughing at him, her eyes watering. It was weird how much her smile, her laugh, her voice and everything about her was effecting him. The feeling in his chest scared him, it was the first time he'd felt a warm sensation like this and, much to his surprise, it made him quite comfortable.

Even before writing their song, he knew he made the right choice in asking her to be his partner.

The pair spent the next hour putting together chords and melodies, mixing words together to make good lyrics, but at the end, the results weren't that great. But not bad, either.

He had mentioned rock and she decided to make the song about it. He just agreed with her; after all, she was the songwriter.

All of a sudden, in the middle of the songwriting, his phone rang. Twice, then three times. He wanted to ignore it, but the person kept insisting.

"Answer it, Austin, that could be important," Ally suggested, at the fifth consecutive ring.

He looked at the screen, groaning at the name that appeared as the ID calling. "Damn it, it's Kira! I forgot we had a movie date. Fu-"

"Ha! Language. Just… go, don't keep her waiting. She's probably ready and dressed up for the date, you can't disappoint her." Every word coming out of her mouth was like a stab in her own heart, but she couldn't be that selfish and keep him with her when he had already made the promise to hang out with someone else.

Even if it was his girlfriend.

He pressed the answer icon. "Hi, Kira. Yeah, yeah. I know, I've had… family problems. I'll be there in ten. Yes, bye."

He let out a sigh. Dating Kira was a torture, she was as hot as annoyingly demanding. "She's so clingy, I can't stand her anymore," he rested his elbow on the keys, his forehead on his hand, causing the piano to emit a deep low sound. It definitely matched his current mood.

"Then why are you dating her?"

He looked at her for a moment, like the answer was obvious and even asking was crazy.

"Actually, I don't want to know."

Finally he stood up, separating from that bench almost painfully. Despite the strenuous brain-storming, he had fun, in way he never had fun before.

He decided songwriting with Ally was even more fun than attending parties with dumb school people.

"So, we'll continue this tomorrow, are you free?"

"I am, yes."

Like she wouldn't find time for him…

"Thank you again for helping me, I owe you." And before actually registering what he was doing he bent towards her and placed a small kiss on her cheek. As he drew back, she stared up at him confused and he feared he had messed up everything.

God, did he even care that much? Why all of the sudden it mattered so much what she would think? He had to go away before his mind would form further questions he could not answer to.

"Bye, see you tomorrow, Ally," he quickly said, sprinting off the practice room and out of the store.

She didn't even say bye back, she only managed to raise her hand to touch her burning cheek. Only a couple of seconds later she noticed he left his bag there.

So she got up, still dizzy from the little show of affection and opened the bag, peeking inside, curiosity getting the best of her. She found the hoodie he was wearing before and as in autopilot, without thinking, she put it on and despite it being still damp from the rain, it was warm and it smelled like him.

It was twice her size, her arms lost somewhere in the sleeves and the hood looked like it was eating her head whole. But, again, despite that, it was extremely comfortable.

He said he owed her.

Thinking about it, though, wrapped in the warm hug of his hoodie, her cheek still tingling from his kiss and after more than an hour spent writing with him, she didn't need any kind of reward.

* * *

**Click on the review button, if you want, and let me know what you thought of their first songwriting session (:**


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